


Unfixable Teacup

by manipulative_broken



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Abigail is not dead, Alternate Universe - Hannibal (TV) Fusion, Blood, Blood Loss, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Canon Rewrite, Caring Hannibal Lecter, Character Death, Crime Scenes, Death, Fanfiction, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mizomuno, Non-Canonical Character Death, Scene Gone Wrong, Someone Help Will Graham, Sorry Not Sorry, Stag Hannibal Lecter, dead will graham, mizomuno rewrite, s2e13, teacup - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 16:53:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16937106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manipulative_broken/pseuds/manipulative_broken
Summary: A rewrite of mizomuno: what happens if Will, after being gutted, had reacted in another way than what was potrayed on screen? (One-shot)





	Unfixable Teacup

**Author's Note:**

> huuuu boii was this a dozy to write! Made me really emotional, and I hope it carries the angst to you readers too! This is purely a one-shot, and there is no continuation to this. Please enjoy!

Will pads into Hannibal's house, the place so familiar yet so cold to him in that moment. His heart raced with every step, and right now he was unsure whether he was shivering because of his thundering pulse or his rain-soaked clothes. Damp curls clung to his forehead, eyes wary as he levelled his gun before him.

"Hannibal."

The words were a dull mantra spoken from his mouth. Alana didn't deserve to suffer under the hands of Hannibal. Nobody should.

The door swung open, and footsteps echoed around the hallway. Sensing a presence, Will swung, gun steady, before he stilled, absolute confusion and horror sinking into his heart. Abigail stood before him, shaking as tears bubbled up her eyes. Her face was scrunched up, body nearly wracked in sobs and she stood. All around him, Will's surroundings came to a halt, and he slowly lowered his gun, eyes fixed on Abigail's beautiful blues, now clouded by her brimming tears. "Abigail?" He whispered, his voice dry and raspy against his throat, not believing his sight. Was he hallucinating? No, Abigail was dead...she couldn't be-

Her sob brought his attention sharply back to her. "I didn't know what else to do, so I just did what he told me." Her breath came out as jagged as her words, slicing hard against Will's heart. He should have known. His fingers tightened against the trigger, exhaling a breath that sent chills down his body. Will struggles to process her and they stare at one another. Will can't begin to understand and yet understands totally...

 "Where is he?" It came out as a bare whisper   


He followed her gaze, and he took a millisecond to register. He turned his head slowly, wanting to drag out this moment, not bearing to look at Hannibal, the transition between his 'daughter' and Hannibal too much for his crumbling heart to focus on. "Y-you were supposed...to leave." His words stung in his throat even as he forced them out, willing his eyes to focus on the devil before him. The stone-hard façade never left the prim doctor, yet his entire sleeve was soaked in blood, red rivulets dripping from his chin. He didn't want to know who's blood it belonged to.

"We couldn't leave without you." Will's eyes were sunken, dilated now, horror and many emotions Hannibal dug up now surfacing, his breath coming in pants as he locked his gaze with him. Will felt his throat tighten with every lingering second that ticked between the two, the tension tight and frigid, lie with one swipe of Hannibal's blade everything would come shattering down. Words clambered up his stomach, every devastated noun or phrase he wanted to fling at the doctor, his mouth remained gaping but nothing came out, only the pain that he portrayed through his eyes.

Hannibal cupped Will's face in his hands. He could feel how with every breath, Will tightened even more, his pulse racing against his throat, lashes fluttering. His skin was cold to the touch, and it was a sharp contrast to Hannibal's warm touch. He scanned Will's face, noticing how he relaxed into his touch. A dark thought flourished in the chambers of his palace, _Will trusts you_. With every inhale of the fresh night breeze, Will exhaled, sagging towards Hannibal's hands, yet his eyes blossomed with the touch, fear and horror flashing through, exchanging with a more savage emotion that Hannibal willed to yank up to the surface.

He fingered the blade in his pocket. Seeing how Will locked eyes with him, the blues so mesmerizing like Abigail's. And then he slotted the blade into Will's stomach.

Almost immediately, Will tensed, gasping a broken "Ah." and falling forward. Hannibal yanked the blade further, tearing a line across Will's abdomen, carefully avoiding any fatal veins and organs. Will, sagging forward, clinging to Hannibal shoulder's like a mass of broken bones Hannibal the only anchor he held firmly on. Hannibal's strong hand let go of the blade and wrapped it around Will's neck, pressing the shuddering boy tight against his body, stroking his hair even as he left the blade in Will's stomach. Jerky words spilled out of Will's mouth, and his breathing became rapid, his breath warm against Hannibal's throat. Hannibal watched in awe as the fragile creature came undone before his eyes.

He was about to retract the blade when Will reacted.

As in on overdrive, Will jerked, his eyes flaring up as if squirmed. Hannibal's eye's widened, as the fish squirmed on the hook, hurting itself even more. "Will!" Hannibal groaned, quickly realizing one of the two consequences, and tried to yank the blade away. Will's shuddering grip came tightly around his shoulder in a strength that Hannibal hadn't expected. "If you want to kill me, do it fast, Hannibal." He expected coldness and threat to lace the agent's words, but instead only a pitiful beg trailed out. His own name stirred up something in Hannibal's stomach, and growling, he slammed Will away from the sharp blade.

But not before Will yanked his own body across the knife, slitting a deep line into and across his stomach, way past the incision Hannibal originally made.

His body crumbled onto the ground, his grip slipping from Hannibal's shoulder, spluttering for breath. "No!" Hannibal's savageness shone through a ferocious growl that emitted from his throat. He sunk to his knees, blood spilling out from Will's wound like a waterfall, and no matter how hard Hannibal tried to wrap his broad hands around Will's waist, blood just kept spilling out, from his fingers, slipping down his arms, pooling around both of them in an empty halo. Will's head thudded against the kitchen walls, eyes rolling back as the numbing pain started to set in.

"Will! Stay with me!" A desperation, something Hannibal didn't fully understand resonated from his words, and Will detected it, sharp against his pounding heart and the shrill scream of his veins and blood poured away from his draining body. "Isn't this what you wanted..." Will's voice struck deep in Hannibal's heart, stirring and awaking something in him. A ragged shudder, his body trembling as more blood gushed through his fingers. Hannibal  wasn't used to this, fearing blood; he usually basked in it, being able to shed away his 'person suit' made him feel rejuvenated, now lying in Will's broken shadow made his body repulse against him.   


" _No_ , Will."

His head swung towards Abigail, who watched them both with a fiery horror in her eyes, her gaze flickering between Hannibal's blood soaked figure and Will's convulsing form. It was clear she was trying to say something, but her words came out raspy and hollow. "Get the first aid kit. NOW." Hannibal never allowed himself to lose control of his emotions as much he had while Will bled out. Footstep thundered off into the kitchen, and Hannibal focused all his attention back on Will.

"Time did reverse, Will. The teacup that I shattered dared to come together." He spoke soothingly, harshly contradicting his heart that thudded rapidly against his chest. Words from every language screamed at him, at his foolishness to let Will go so easily, at his mistake, and they echoed around him, thundering ferociously.

A choked sob. "No. You broke it. Again. and again." Will blubbered, face quickly losing colour, as his body trembled in Hannibal's grip. Even so, he could hear how broken Will sounded, like dust crumbling away, swept away by the wind, and that seemed to tear a hole in his palace, the architecture he built up crashing to ruins as Will drifted further from reality. " _You broke me_."

A box clattered besides him, and Hannibal stirred from his daze, pulling himself sharply away from Will's eyes, nearly trapped and locked in the ocean and to drown in the blood of savageness and death they created. His fingers monetarily left Will's body, and like clockwork, blood, without the hands to stop them, gushed out, and Will sobbed, rocking his body, leaning against the walls, frantically trying to keep his hands on his wound, but his limbs seemed too exhausted, numb from the pain and the curse Hannibal casted upon him the moment they met.

Hannibal didn't even need to look at his wound to know the kit wouldn't even work. He didn't even remember why he had asked Abigail to get it. "Can you save him?" Finally, words spilled from her mouth, fist clenched against her side. He couldn't even will himself to answer her, wrapping a hand around Will's hand, not bothering to hold against the wound anymore. Abigail, understanding Hannibal's silence, crashed onto the ground, emotions washing against her as she curled up besides Will, sobbing incoherent words.

Will glanced at Abigail, seeing how the crying teenager wrapped her body around Will's arms. He tried to say something to soothe her, but his words only came out as broken syllabuses. He turned his head, and met Hannibal's intense gaze, but this time he saw a devastation inside his gaze. He didn't know whether it was because he nearly slipping into death or he was imagining it.

"They say true emotions are portrayed when one is on the edge. What do you feel, Will?" Hannibal's voice cracked on his name, as he inched closer, the perfect murder family of his pressed against the wall. He cradled Will's sagging arm in his own. Seeming to resign to his fate, Will's breathing had become more even, eyes fluttering close occasionally to the point that Hannibal thought Will had.... But then his eyes would reopen, and then would drill a hole in his head, the intensity of Will's gaze even as he stood by the edge of the cliff, death urging him to fall.

"I feel...like I s-should have known you longer...maybe the teacup wouldn't have s-shattered in the first place..." Will spluttered out, eyes unfocused, yet still trained onto Hannibal, as if he was the only thing preventing him from tumbling off the edge, as if he wasn't the one to shove him there in the first place. "W-would you have let me into y-your life, Hannibal?"

Hannibal swallowed thickly, emotions stuck in his heart, lodged in his throat, his voice coming out strained. "I let you know me. See me.  I gave you a rare gift. But you didn't want it." His sandy hair, wet with sweat and grim fell over his eyes. Will exhaled a shaky breath, "N-no...no..." 

_"I would have given you my heart, Hannibal."_   


More blood spilled with every heaving breath, till Will could physically feel his heart slow.

"I forgive you, Will. Do you forgive me?"

A pause, and a quiver of Will's paling lips. He released the breath he didn't know he was holding, and finally let go of his heart. Everything that made up his crumbling life, and rested his head onto Hannibal's shoulder. He felt the stickiness of blood pressed against his cheek, and shut his eyes gently.

"I forgive you, Hannibal Lecter."

The black stag bellowed and crashed onto the kitchen floor, breathing in great steaming gasps. Dying... Will's eyes fixed on the stag as its breath slows and finally stops... and on the ground Will's pulse ran to a chilling stop.  


Besides him, Hannibal closed his eyes alongside Will, whose head still lay atop his shoulder. His eyes stung, pricking in the back of his head. He shouldn't cry. He only cried for two thing, musicals, and fantastic food. Not people. People didn't deserve his sympathy. Will was _rude_ , choosing to betray him. He deserved to die-

His heart didn't allowed the cynical thoughts to ring out in his head, and when he opened his eyes, a beady pearl teardrop slid down his cheek. A warm hand slid into his, and he turned to see Abigail watching him with red eyes, wailing and sniffling loudly as she refused to let go of Will's hand with her other hand.   


Hannibal rested his head against the kitchen walls, and Abigail placed his head against his heaving chest. He knew they had to run sooner or later, with Jack still struggling to breath the pantry and Alana outside the house, but in this moment, he forgot about anything, only hearing his own heavy breathing mingling with the pounding of the heavy rain on the cement outside.

He only cared about the broken boy in his arms, and how the teacup would never be able to come back again.

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope no one is upset at me for writing this HAHAHH sorry!! thank you for reading <3 and once again rmb to leave a kudo and leave any stories idea you would like to see! uwu please don't kill me I wanted to explore this aspect okay I will leave now. HAHAH love yall!


End file.
